Page 76 of Bond of a Bewitched Highlander

"If she does, she will regret it. Most of us are armed." Brodie reached for her arm.

"I'll be fine," she said, trying to step around him.

"Nonsense."

"Do you consider me clumsier than an elder?" Eyes as captivating as the blue sky above, she stared at him as if offended.

"Nay, but you've had a head injury. What if you should grow dizzy?" His tone was probably grumpier than it should have been, but he did not want her falling in such a treacherous place.

She blew out a breath. "Very well! If it makes you feel better."

"It does, obstinate lass." Brodie held on to Elsea's firm but slender upper arm as they descended the steep, uneven steps. How could she be so soft and strong at the same time?

Her cloak snagged on the heather and scrubby whins beside the path. The bushes were hacked back a few times per year, but they regrew quickly.

When they reached the flat sand and shingle of the beach, one of the guards was carrying Finnian through the shallow surf to keep his shoes and robes dry. 'Twould not do at all for the old man to catch an ague.

His boisterous clansmen, laughing and joking amongst themselves, were heavily armed with bows, arrows, swords, targes, and dirks. Having left their footwear in the guardhouse, they waded through the surf toward the galleys. Their bare feet also provided better traction on board.

"Are you going to permit me to carry you to the galley?" Brodie fully expected her to object to any contact with him.

She nodded, her slight smile halfway between impish and cautious. "I thank you, m'laird."

The formal address grated at him, but her slightly amused expression gave the impression she was teasing him.

After removing his boots and tossing them toward the guardhouse, Brodie lifted Elsea, trying not to look at her. The familiar feel of her lithe body in his arms, against his chest, stirred up all sorts of chaos inside him. Wading through the cool seawater, he carried her to the galley. The clean, warm floral scent of her distracted him. She didn't smell like roses, as she had in the past. This was a new fragrance, but equally sweet... heather. Arousal surged through him and the impulse to bury his nose against her throat taunted him. Staring straight ahead, he glared at his grinning clansmen who watched them from the galley.

"Chief, I would've been happy to carry her if you'd told me," Neil called.

"I'm perfectly capable of carrying a wee lass, you rogue."

Neil and the other men guffawed.

"I'm nay wee," Elsea muttered too low for his clansmen to hear.

"Light," Brodie amended. In the past, he might have teased her at a moment such as this, but not now. He tried to forget the dismal past and focus on his objective.

"Do you think you'll need my plaid again?" Neil winked at Elsea as he helped her on board.

"I'll be warm enough. I thank you, though," Elsea said with a smile, a blush staining her cheeks.

Even though a battle raged within his chest, Brodie ignored Neil's attempts at riling him. He boarded, and a few of the clansmen pushed the galleys out.

He sat beside Elsea on a thwart near the center, rowers along the sides. If the sea roughened, he could grab her and keep her from being tossed about. Thus far, she wore an agreeable expression, her eyes bright and expectant. She'd always been eager to travel, take galley trips, and see new places.

He was glad she was relaxed now, not fearful of the sea or any enemies they might see.

"With you and Finnian on board, we'll nay be going close enough for a fight. But if the knave should attack, we'll be ready," Brodie said. He was doubtful Talnaroch would be there.

The men rowed northward, singing "Iomairibh Eutrom" to keep in rhythm. 'Twas an ancient rowing song about a milkmaid who'd made the fatal mistake of gathering mussels at high tide. He'd always figured she must have been hungry, or mayhap her family was, to take such an enormous risk.

Only a couple of days ago, Elsea had come close to drowning. He shook his head. Despite everything, he could not bear imagining it.

Beside him now, her lovely high-pitched voice joined the men's deep intonations. One night, two years ago, she and Cat had sung together in the great hall after supper, enthralling the whole clan.

Abruptly, a foot long fish leapt from the water, sailing past Elsea and hitting Brodie in the chest. She gave a squeak of surprise.

"What the devil?" he muttered.